Beyond The Grave

"Why do you seek the living among the dead?" - Luke 24:5

It caught me by surprise when, last night after dark, I received a call from Chris telling me she was going to accompany her parents to visit Teresa's grave. Nine months have passed since their 51 year old daughter and sister's death to cancer. With the exception of my father-in-law's week-long stint in the hospital himself with internal bleeding, Chris' parents have visited the grave every day religiously. They say it gets harder for them with the passing of time.

When they get to the cemetery they talk to Teresa as one would share the day's unfolding with a loved one or friend over a cup of coffee. More than a few tears are shed and, before they depart, they embrace the headstone.

November is particularly difficult for my in-laws as it was tradition for the family to gather at Teresa's to celebrate Thanksgiving. This year there will be no such family gathering nor will they journey this winter to Florida as they have over the years. "It is too soon," they say. "It just wouldn't be right."

I am sure many grieving parents find themselves going through similar motions with the approach of the holidays. I can't begin to imagine what it must be like for a parent to lose a child, however old. I consider myself blessed that, at 55, I still have my parents. I wonder, however, how long my in-laws will cling to their routine. They don't really think Teresa would have wanted them to stop living just because she lost her own battle with cancer.

Now we are surely creatures of habit and find great comfort in going through the motions of what is familiar. Growth demands however that we pause to ask the hard questions. But asking "Why" leaves us vulnerable.

Yet if any hope at all can be found in the experience of death it is that the deceased is no longer restricted by place and time. The spirit is set free, no longer bound by the body. To over identify with the grave is to doom a loved one to the same limits imposed on them in this life.

Although Teresa's body rests in that hallowed hole, her spirit won't be found there. Her spirit will be found in the things she loved to do in life, like gather with family to celebrate Thanksgiving. I believe that in my life my ancestors story continues to unfold and, long after I take my last steps on earth, my own story will continue in those I leave behind. But that story cannot continue when the grief of loved ones prevent them from living.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Election 2006: Politics & Christian Values

Another bitterly contested election reaches its climax today. I will not miss the barrage of television ads, most sponsored by political action committees, defaming an opponent rather than advocating what each candidate personally stands for or proposes. I will not miss the politicians who fuel the flames of polarization to advance their campaigns, pitting democrat against republican, conservative against liberal, red state against blue state.

A particular pet peeve of mine are politicians who seek election on the coat tails of the electorate's sentiment over emotionally charged "values." True Christian values are neither "conservative" nor "liberal" - They are Christian. Nowhere in scripture are those values more simply or clearly stated than in Matthew 25. Neither "Conservatives" (who tout an anti-abortion and anti-gay agenda to the neglect of the social consciousness mandated by scripture) nor "liberals" (who promote the welfare of the poor, infirm and elderly but turn their head to protecting the sanctity of all life beginning with the most vulnerable) are getting it right!!! Perhaps a complete boycott of the midterm elections would send a message to politicians that would make them shutter. What would they do if the vote was "0" to "0" ? Would they get the message that "enough is enough?"

I encourage Christians throughout this country to exercise their right to vote. Before you do, however, please step away from the rhetoric of partisan politics and from the extremists from both parties who fan the flames of polarization to win our vote by fearing or hating the other side. Take off your red shirt or your blue shirt. Our vote can put an end to this era and forge a new majority united by hope, love and reason.

Before you vote, consider the following prayer:

We realize that much is "incorrect" about the world in which we live, and we pray that our vote may be cast for leaders, who, committed to the common good, can address these grave problems.

In the United States, 38 million people are hungry and nearly 46 million are uninsured. A person who works a full-time minimum wage job cannot adequately provide for a family. May the vote we cast elect leaders who will create an option for the poor and vulnerable.

Despite the advice of spiritual leaders to the contrary, our country supports violent solutions to conflict. In an age of fear, when the problems of terrorism and extremism loom in the background of policy decisions, important civil rights and freedoms have been weakened. May the vote we cast elect leaders who will promote peace and protect human rights.

The environment is being degraded. The future of our earth is in peril. Yet, U.S. leaders have neglected to sign-on to important international protocol on the environment. May the vote we cast elect leaders who will care for God's Creation.

Current events have diverted our focus from social atrocities: 2.8 million people die of HIV/AIDS ever year; millions more die of other preventable diseases. Millions of people live in refuge camps around the world, displaced by war and conflict. Drought and famine plague multiple countries around the world at any given moment. May the vote we cast elect leaders who will protect the dignity of all human life.

God of Hope, God of Peace, we pray for your spirit in the upcoming election. We pray for leaders who will uphold and protect the most poor and vulnerable in our world. We pray for leaders who will stand for the common good. Amen

WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?... VOTE!

(adapted from a prayer by Jill Rauh, Education for Justice)

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Laicization

Following my reflections on the prodigal priest, some have asked me to prayerfully consider laicization so that I can be married in and fully embraced by the Catholic Church and once again actively participate in a ministry of service to that Church. As I write this follow up, I assure you I have indeed prayed in earnest and appreciate those who have joined me in this prayer of discernment.

As I prayerfully reflect back upon my life, as I reconsider both the paths I have chosen to take as well as the unchosen that were set before me and intended for my taking, as I pause to recognize God's presence along the way, one thing is undeniably clear... God knocked on my door before I ever knocked at his. The call that stirred my restless, hungry heart throughout the formative years of my youth and the call to serve that I heard and accepted is as real today as it was twenty-four years ago TODAY when I was ordained to the priesthood!

Despite all the faith and love behind the suggestion, to pursue the path of laicization would require that I look back and accept that impediments prevented all of it from really happening. To do that would be to condemn myself to living out the rest of my days as a lie. And that would make as much sense as Mary recanting her "yes" to God concerning the virgin birth because Christians following in Jesus' footsteps have failed over two millenia to clothe themselves in the gospel's spirit of love and compassion and because the world does not recognize Christians for their openness, inclusion and acceptance - their love for one another!

So, after prayerful consideration, I reaffirm on this 24th anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood that I was called to be a priest, I accepted that call and served in active ministry faithfully, literally pouring myself out to the point of brokenness, that those who come to know me witness that priestly character by my words, actions and demeanor and, finally, that God isn't through with me yet! Today I recommit myself to answering "yes" to that call!

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

The Prodigal Priest

A Catholic friend messaged me the other day with questions that led to a reflection worthy of a post. She had taken advantage of a lull in her work as a library clerk assisting students with their research to, thinking of me, do her own research on married priests. She asked:

1. Having never renounced my vows, do I still get to be a priest?
2. Do I still celebrate mass?
3. Do I celebrate private weddings for couples?
4. Is my role at the prison that of a priest?

My friend observed that she thought it would be horrible if I weren't able to do the work that I was ordained to do and she hoped I could still do the "official" stuff.

People blog for different reasons, many for friendship or to become part of a broader social circle. I blog primarily to converse with myself in the hope of reconnecting with my purpose and honoring my destiny. It is also my hope and prayer that as I reflect upon my own journey, those who read this story, in some mysterious way, come closer to understanding their own. Now I've noticed that most blogs, even some very good ones with worthwhile content, go relatively unnoticed. Comments are important to me not because I lust to ascend to a blogger featured page, but because I sincerely appreciate feedback and enjoy reading how my story has connected with yours. This exchange with readers helps me to put the pieces of life's puzzle back together again.

Although there are some dissimilarities, lately I have come to see myself and my story in light of Jesus' parables of the lost in Luke 15. Out of curiousity I ran a search of my own for "prodigal priest" to see if there was anyone else out there on the internet wrestling with the same issues and circumstances. I discovered only one, an episcopal priest deposed for an undisclosed sexual impropriety. But I am not a "deposed" priest. I never abused anyone. My sin was to let aching human loneliness draw me away from the love of the Lord and a ministry I cherished. That line about not knowing what you've got until it's gone - it's true!

I was ordained a diocesan Roman Catholic priest in 1982. I had the privilege of serving four communities in southwestern Michigan as parochial vicar and pastor. In 1989 I was given a difficult assignment which I will reflect upon at another time in another post. For the purpose of this reflection, suffice it to say I gave of myself selflessly and completely until I didn't have anything left inside to give any more. When the evil and ill will of a determined faction bent on waging a holy war to dictate the course of a parish set their sights on good and decent people who had accepted my invitation and encouragement to serve their community in ministry, when in one particular instance a parishioner became so distraught over the situation she sought to take her own life by an overdose of pills, I discovered my limits and experienced burn out that led to my own hospitalization. The extreme loneliness that had been my companion gave a face to the utter emptiness and brokeness I felt at this critical time in my life.

I felt betrayed by the Church I had served and abandoned by a bishop of whom brother priests had spoken often was at his best when showing support of priests in their time of need. In hindsight I remind myself that it was at this time the bishop himself was in the midst of bouncing back from being seriously ill from an unknown malady from a trip overseas. Nevertheless I had given of myself without reservation to everyone I had been called to serve in their need but found no one at my side in my own. Broken and vulnerable, in the midst of my loneliness, despair and isolation, a woman befriended me. I had never known what it was like to have someone seemingly love me more than I loved myself. I didn't feel hurt or empty or lonely any more. That friendship grew as I convalesced and a year later, after much soul searching and prayer, I informally "left" the priesthood to get married.

One of two things happens when a priest gets married. Some priests will seek out laicization. It is important to keep in mind that the Church believes Ordination (Holy Orders), like all the sacraments, imparts an indelible character that forever changes a person. Like the process of annulment in the Church, laicization is a way around this understanding of sacramental grace and indelible character by proving that the sacrament, be it marriage or ordination, never occurred in the first place because of impediments that prevented the imparting of grace. But I, like so many priests who have left active ministry to get married, have never renounced my vows and am not interested in laicization. Once a priest, always a priest. As the ritual itself announces, "You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek ( Hebrews 5:6 )."

And so for priests like me, we continue to love the Lord Jesus, love the Church and are fully committed to lives of service ministering to the broken, the weary and the hungry. At the end of the game show The Weakest Link many years ago, host Ann Robinson, after telling the winner what he or she had just won, would next turn to the loser and announce "And you... just go away." And so it is with married priests. We're still priests... we just "go away"... we disappear. We're no longer acknowledged, cast into exile because we fell in love.

Although there is much more I could reflect upon and share on the topic, it's time to draw this reflection to a close and answer my friend's questions. Ordination was a defining moment for me and not just a chapter from a bygone era in my life. Yes, I am still (and always will be) a priest, albeit officially an inactive one. Despite our desire to the contrary to serve, we are no longer invited by the Church to formally exercise ministry although I, like most, still celebrate mass. I have performed weddings and funerals when asked. My work at the prison is not that of priest although my being a priest can never be separated from anything I do. In the course of interviewing prisoners, many have paused to express their appreciation that I dealt with them in a compassionate and non-judgmental way. My faith and my calling permits me no less.

Finally, my friend later asks, "You were talking about "true love." You had said that you had everything that you wanted with Christ, and yet you were still looking for that one special love. Do you regret your decision to marry?"

Though lonely, I never looked for that someone special. When you are a priest there are lonely women who inevitably come your way to tempt your commitment and play on your vulnerability. I've reflected on this before as another kind of sexual abuse that has never been explored by the Church. Some may wonder why, if Christ is a priest's "enough", would he ever be lonely anyway? Bear in mind in Jesus rests the fullness of God and the fullness of our humanity. Jesus enjoyed an intimacy with God we can only hope may be ours some day in another life. Jesus could have come to earth and lived a cloistered life altogether and fulfilled his mission. Yet he sought out the close friends we call the Twelve. Was it human loneliness of sorts that led him to ask them to follow him into the garden and remain at his side ( see Mark:14 32-34 )?

Do I regret my decision to get married? Honestly? Yes and no... No because I have been gifted with raising two beautiful kids - an adopted son who needed a father's love and a biological daughter... Yes, because the pain and emptiness I feel inside about not being able to actively pastor in the Church is far greater than the pain of either my past loneliness or brokenness... And if you sense that I am torn apart on the inside...

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

You Don't Have To Wait Much Longer

God works in strange and mysterious ways. I came face-to-face with this truth when I interviewed a prisoner a couple of days ago.

You wouldn't want to encounter the likes of inmate "M" on the streets. His body is marked with "13" and "XIII", branding him as a Sureno and he sports a teardrop under his left eye. Influenced by an uncle, his gang affiliation began in San Antonio, Texas, at age 11. His family moved to southwest Detroit where the Surenos and Latin Counts are bloody rivals seeking respect by waging war in the streets. In the past month alone I have seen over a dozen members of these gangs from this area committed to the state prison for violent, gang-motivated crimes including homicide.

On one level I can understand the bitter rivalry. As we approach the back stretch of the midterm elections, I'm reminded how politically polarized we've become. For the time being the electorate seems content to wage its war in the voting booth, but if candidates don't emerge who can speak a unifying language that can bridge our perceived differences and lead us to stand on common ground, red state-blue state and liberal-conservative could become the Hatfields-McCoys. It has been refreshing to see Illinois senator Barack Obama on the cover of Time magazine and speaking on Oprah and Larry King this past week. He is the one politician to come around in a long time who steps away from the polarizing rhetoric and presents issues in an inclusive way.

I guess in the end what is taking place in southwest Detroit, the streets of Bagdad and in the political ads playing on television is a mirror in which we can see our own reflection. Does it make us uncomfortable? When you talk to him, "M" realizes gang culture hasn't been worth the cost. He and his wife lost a 3 month old daughter in the bullet spray of a drive-by shooting into their home a couple of years ago.

"M" is Catholic and my having been ordained a Catholic priest in 1982 lent a spiritual tone to the interview. He related how, despite being happily married and in love with his wife and newborn son, he feels restless inside and had begun to turn to alcohol to escape his pain. There are many ways we go about anesthetizing that restlessness. Until being prescribed Byetta three and a half weeks ago, my personal drug of convenience if not choice or utility was food.

At the end of the interview, after "M" had journeyed down some difficult personal paths with me and shed a few tears, he paused. He looked me in the eye and said, very sincerely, "The Holy Spirit told me to tell you this. You won't have to wait much longer."

Yes, God does work in strange and mysterious ways. Could he have chosen "M" to deliver a message intended for me? Why would he choose a gang member and a convict as his emissary? The funny thing is, the message does speak to me in a number of ways and despite the lips from which it was delivered, I welcomed and needed to hear that message.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Where I'm Supposed To Be

From time to time I catch myself in a funk, questioning whether my life has any meaning or purpose. I feel an aching dissatisfaction, that there is so much more inside of me that neither my life nor my circumstances allow me to celebrate, express or give. One of the principles Dr. Wayne Dyer espouses for happiness and peace is to avoid dying with your music still in you. Within each and every one of us is a unique song that only you can sing by the life you lead. But sometimes life doesn't seem to be interested in me singing my song.

When I'm facing the blues I have to remind myself of all those times looking back when it felt like someone somewhere was watching out for me, when luck or fate was actually on my side and I was spared from having to go down very dark or difficult roads. Recalling those occasions renews an appreciation that God does have something special in store for me, even though it doesn't always seem that way.

How cool it would be if each of us could author the unique way we would contribute to life and the world, if each could write his own legacy. Some are given that opportunity but for me, like the vast majority, God has his own ideas. For that reason I have no choice but to keep my focus on cherishing what I have rather than feeling sorry for myself over what is missing. While keeping an open mind, heart and spirit, I will look around and about me for the doors of opportunity to swing wide to let me in. Until then I believe I am right where I'm supposed to be...

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven, Fall & Endings

The other man's grass is always greener
The sun shines brighter on the other side.
- Sung by Petula Clark in 1967 -


Heaven. The Promised Land. Shangri-la. Throughout the ages human dissatisfaction with the present has stirred a longing for another place where suffering, hardship, defeat and even death are absent. Sometimes that longing becomes the only hope in an existence that seems too cruel, unfair or unbearable. Sadly it is at that point we have, in effect, estranged heaven from earth.

Apparently our space exploration has taught us nothing. There are volumes of awe-inspiring pictures taken from the heavens that capture the intimate relationship enjoyed by heaven and earth. When looking off onto the horizon, how can one not see or imagine a point where earth and heaven actually meet and touch? For me to find that point is to discover the most powerful meaning of the "present." What greater goal could there be for the spiritual journey than to find that bridge?

Seeing heaven and earth as two separate places gives rise to many errors. It leads to the demonizing of the earth and our life upon it. It leads to the overglamorization of heaven where we attribute values and experiences that ought to be sought after here on earth. And, as we witnessed just over five years ago, it permits radicalized Muslims to board planes and bring about mass death and destruction to "get to the other side."

Fall invites and sometimes even urges a reflection on endings but considering the end of anything is an uncomfortable topic of conversation for many. Yet all around us we witness an undeniable transformation. On nature's canvas the life born of spring and nurtured in summer puts on one last splendid display before it enters into its time of rest - to stand naked, silent and still. But isn't the truely miraculous point of it all that next spring the story will be retold, will unfold again, just as it has from age to age?

Nature, the seasons and the renewal of life have taught me not to fear endings at all. Of course there is grief and sadness for we are confronted with the reality that we cannot cling forever to who and what we know and have grown comfortable with. But life is like those leaves we see falling from the trees all around us. People we have grown to love and cherish and the health, success and security we have worked hard an entire lifetime to find or achieve will all eventually fall beyond our grasp as individual leafs letting go of the tree of life we have shared. As the fall and our lifetime progress, we find ourselves increasingly alone and isolated on that tree. It is spiritually imperative that we come to peace with it being alright for us to let go ourselves. Considering how resistant we are to change throughout our lives, it is no surprise whatsoever that we find that letting go so difficult.

As I reflect on heaven, I find great solace in the cyclical pattern of nature. Afterall, since we humans are also part of that nature why would we not also be subject to the pattern of renewal we see displayed before our very eyes each year? From winter's dormancy new life will sprout in the spring. How is that any different from the miracle of child bearing and birth where a new life is born of the dormancy of the womb?

That life continues beyond our death I have no doubt, but what that life may look like has been the fodder of spiritual hope and speculation from the beginning of time. No one, not even the risen Jesus, has returned from the other side to reveal what awaits us. At first that may seem curious or odd but if that picture of heaven were definitively given to us we, being the humans that we are, would either grow impatient with or intolerant of life as we now know it, or would use that image as reason to commit acts to earn or buy our way into it, or would find fault with the ways in which it might fall short of our expectations, or would be incapable of comprehending it altogether anyway.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Abuse, Betrayal of Trust & Learning to Live Again

When my trust has been betrayed, I am likely to find myself resistant to ever trusting again. This can only result in the rest of life being lived out in fear... which is really not living at all. So how do I get beyond past betrayals so that I can begin to trust again?

One of the points that TV's Dr. Phil often makes is that at any given moment in my life, I do (or have done) what I can (or could) within the limits of my knowledge and experience at the time. It is not my fault if my trust has been betrayed and I have found myself hurt, abused or taken advantage of. Regardless of how devastating the hurt or abuse may have been, there is a sense in which what has happened expands my knowledge and experience and empowers me so I am not as susceptible to abuse or my trust being betrayed in the future.

This means that instead of living in debilitating fear that what happened in the past could happen again, I can instead approach life with some degree of confidence knowing that I am smarter and more aware and that leaves me safer and more secure. I don't need to be afraid of lurking ghosts or the shadows from a dark past because my knowledge and experience will allow me to recognize situations or circumstances where I may find myself vulnerable to being hurt or abused.

Perhaps there is also an underlying sense of shame that my abuse has left me tarnished in some way. This may leave me feeling unworthy of living again, of loving and being loved, of deserving good fortune, success or happiness. The one thing I have in common with all, however, is that we are broken souls, damaged goods. It is simply not possible to walk through life unscathed. Circumstances and experiences abound that leave us bruised and scarred. Yet at the same time I have been redeemed. I have value and purpose that no person or thing can ever take away.

So go forth to live and love. You are not bound or fettered by past experiences of abuse. There is no reason to shroud yourself in fear. Rise up and greet the new dawn!

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Your Relationship With GOD

MY RESPONSES (AS I ANSWER) WILL BE IN ITALICS

1. Write down in one or two sentences your own definition, feeling and experience of God.
God is the source, center and summit of all life.

2. Which of the following words fit your conception, feeling and/or experience of God.

Father Mother Friend
Protector Beloved Ruler
Judge Spirit Intelligence
Energy Creator Forgiveness
Love Merciful Punishment
Helper Provider Transcendent
Within Above Presence
Kind Fierce All-knowing
Participant Uninvolved Almighty

3. What role does God play (or not play) in your life?
God is a centering force in my life, the One who keeps me focussed on what really matters in life, who makes it possible for me to experience peace, acceptance, love when I am living in harmony with him

4. If you could ask only three questions of God, what would they be?
I'll just focus on trusting instead of asking questions...

5. If you could have God fulfill three specific wishes or requests, what would they be?
I believe that God empowers us to fulfill our own wishes and dreams (even the noblest amd most unselfish of wishes), but it is always up to us to do the work.

6. To identify the ways in which you most need to make peace with God, answer yes or no to the following questions:

* Do you feel you have turned away from God - or that God has turned away from you? At times, but whenever I have found myself wandering off on my own, I am soon reminded of who and what really does matter...

* Do you ever feel unworthy of receiving God's love? No

* Do you sometimes get angry at God? No, I get angry with myself

* Do you ever doubt God's existence? No, but sometime's I wonder whether G-O-O-D exists

* Do you ever feel afraid of God's wrath? No

* Do you ever wonder why God allows evil and suffering to exist? No, God doesn't allow it... humanity does

* Are your spiritual beliefs in conflict with those of your family or your religious heritage? No

* Do you yearn to experience - or reexperience - God's presence? Always

7. Examine Your Spiritual History.

* How would you characterize the way your parents or step-parents felt about God? Probably a blend of hope, faith and superstition

* What did they teach you, explicitly and implicitly, about spirituality? That always at the center of spirituality is love

* In what ways, if any, was your spirituality affected by other family members, e.g. uncles, aunts, siblings, grandparents? It wasn't

* Was God a source of love and joy? Yes

* Was God used to intimidate or shame you, or make you feel sinful or unworthy? No

* What influence, if any, did specific clergy have on your developing attitudes toward God and religion? All the difference in the world. John Grathwohl became my mentor and led me on a path leading to ordination

* Were religious occasions a pleasant, rich experience, or did you resent having to take part? After my conversion, pleasant and rich

* How has your attitude toward God changed in adulthood? It has evolved from what I needed or hoped God to be to acceptance of who and what God is

* Have you come to question any of your early beliefs? Reject them? Disdain them? No

* What were the turning points in your religious or spiritual development? Conversion, ordination, marriage, children, marriage breakup

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

In Defense Of Marriage & Family - An Editorial

My editorial today is intended more as a spiritual reflection than a political statement. In my view, belief in and faithfulness to God is conscientiously, prayerfully and faithfully living a life in harmony with a seamless array of divinely inspired and ordained values and principles. No political party fully embraces "the things of God" or "the ways of God" and therefore neither are deserving of a vote as the champion of faith. What angers me are those politicians, in this case those in the Republican Party, who openly court as their base a people trying hard to lead faith-filled lives by portraying themselves as their champion... and that "base" blindly and uncritically following these pipers even though the tune they play is wrought with so many contradictions to the very kind of life they are trying faithfully to lead. It is my hope that this editorial stirs people to question these highly suspect, Pharisaic motions and to begin to hold such politicians to higher standards of accountability.

Listening to the news on the radio on the way in to work this morning, I felt heartened that the President and GOP incumbents in the US Senate are focusing on the one issue of major consequence facing the American people today. My marriage has never felt so defended.

Afterall, marriage has been and is under assault. Unless you are born into privilege, it's going to take daddy and mommy each working one or more jobs to meet the financial demands of family. Ever rising gas prices will require finding yet another job in order to put gas in the car for the commute to and from those jobs. But that's okay. All those Americans holding down all those jobs makes for great statistics to run for reelection on - having created all those new jobs and putting America back to work.

And while mommy and daddy are both off to work, thanks to financially strapped school districts and communities inability to provide structured and safe educational and recreational opportunities for youth, the kids have all kinds of time to go home and log onto MySpace to place those personal ads that predators find so enticing. Or maybe they'll take to the street with hats turned and pant legs pegged to the people's left or folk's right for the sense of family that does not exist under their own roof, to the streets where gang-related crime runs rampant because law enforcement too lacks adequate funding so that we can continue to fund all those tax breaks to "keep stimulating the economy."

And if anyone in the family should face serious illness, adequate health care is fast becoming less and less accessible. But have no fear, for our leaders have also rewritten bankruptcy laws in such a way that surely lenders will be more than happy to front you money for which you will spend the remainder of your life in debt trying to repay.

And these reflections don't even begin to look at the kind of America we have and are creating for the least among us (does Matthew 25 matter anyway?).

Excluding gays from the institution of marriage will have a much more profound and lasting influence on strengthening marriage and family than would requiring the love struck from entering into it much more slowly and only after solid preparation. It is much more cost effective to judge or bash homosexuals than it is to give couples real tools to manage the myriad of bumps that make marriage so difficult.

Hats off to Karl Rove. The man's a political genius. He is so adept at knowing how and when to dangle just the right emotionally charged carrot to propel his army to elected posts where they hold the power to pursue whatever their real agenda is. But champion of Marriage and Family? Look again evangelical Christians, and beware.

My question is simple: When will that evangelical conservative base, who is so quick to bite at such political tactics, see through it all and start to hold these people accountable for talking out of both sides of their mouth?

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Pentecost Sunday

Pentecost Sunday. God sharing the animating gift of his spirit, a spirit that was evident over the waters of the abyss at creation and became the very life-breath of humankind. A powerful spirit that transforms us from timidity and apathy to confidence and courage. A spirit that challenges yet comforts and consoles. A spirit that can lead to all truth. For all who seek to "connect with their source," God has made that task easy by living in the Spirit!

From time-to-time we are privileged to know persons whose lives are animated by the Spirit of God. One such person for me celebrates today the 50th Anniversary of his Ordination to the Priesthood. I have written of Jim Barrett here before. It is almost unfathomable how many lives have been touched by Jim in 50 years of ministry. For every person he is aware of having touched there will be several that will remain unknown to him, but touched and touched deeply nonetheless. And that is the way of God's Spirit.

Jim, I was privileged to have begun my own priestly ministry as an intern standing at your side. Our two years together have left me with a lifetime of memories. I cherish your friendship. Congratulations and Godspeed!

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

A Kid's Eye View - Part Two

Teen Heads To Prison For Mom's Stabbing Death
Son Claims He Was On 'Mission For God'

PONTIAC, Mich. -- A Rochester Hills teenager who admitted stabbing his mother to death was sentenced Monday to 25 to 37 ½ years in prison.

As part of a plea agreement, Christopher Dankovich, 16, pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in the April 24, 2005, death of his mother, Diane Michele Dankovich.

"I don't know what else to say to you," Oakland County Circuit Judge John J. McDonald said in court. "You're a young man, and I feel very sorry for you. I hope you get the help you need."

Christopher Dankovich was 15 when his mother was slain in the family's home. He was arrested at his family's cabin in St. Helen, more than 100 miles north of Rochester Hills.

Authorities have said that Dankovich killed his mother after she confronted him about using the Internet to look at pornography and learn how to make weapons.

Dankovich had withdrawn an earlier guilty plea after McDonald rejected a sentencing deal made between his attorney and the prosecutor. McDonald had said then that he could not agree to a 22 ½- to 34-year prison term for Dankovich, who authorities said stabbed his mother 111 times.

At a hearing last week on Dankovich's mental condition, a psychologist testified that the teen believed he was on "mission for God" to kill people who were threatening children, and the intended targets included pornographers, abortion doctors and U.S. Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass., a former presidential candidate.

Because of his age, reception center processing is expedited to get him to a facility that can address his personal safety in a predatory environment as well as begin to meet his programming needs. I interviewed him this morning to complete his classification and take him one step closer to transfer.

This story has tragedy written all over it. This kid was just that... looking more like 13 than 16, he struck me not as a distant psychopathic killer but as a kid in shock, scared and overwhelmed. What he did was absolutely horrendous, yet nothing happens in a vacuum. I often wonder what pieces, what circumstances, what life events fall into place to trigger such an unfortunate episode... not to find excuses, but to understand.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

A Kid's Eye View

***WARNING*** Contains graphic references...

Today I ran across the following statement from a 16 year old boy whose high school principal called one of their "invisible kids," having presented "no behavioral, attendance or grade issues to be on anyone's radar." I will put this in context later, but share it here, in segments, for the purpose of discussion, which could go in a number of directions. Does this stir anyone's thoughts like it did my own?

"When I was fourteen, I started reading the Bible a lot, I had some questions about Why Am I Here? What Is My Purpose? And the more I read the Bible, it made sense to me and a lot of things became clear.

My interest in abortion started when my little sister was born and I held her in my arms, it hit me-How can people kill these children? She was the same to me outside of the womb as she was inside, a little, innocent child, dependant on us all for her survival, and I couldn't understand how these doctors could do that.

I started studying anti-abortion on the internet and at the same time I was interested in the military. My friend and I agreed that after graduation, we were going to go into the Marines. I became interested in making guns and learning how to make pipe bombs.

I studied the abortion issue for the past two years and developed a list of doctors that I planned to kill-in order to save who knows how many children's lives. I did not look at killing abortion doctors as murder-I looked at it as stopping them from murdering little, innocent children. I saved the list and several related files on my computer.

I also wanted to stop pedophiles, and needed to find out who the BIG people were in the industry, so that I could stop them too. That's why I downloaded and looked at those child pornography sites, to find out who these people were-I am totally against harming children in any way.

The more I read the Bible, the more I realized that I was a Soldier of God and that it was my purpose to save these children, and I was prepared to go to prison for the rest of my life or die for that cause. Every day and year that I wait, more children would die and I felt that if I got caught after I stopped the first one and went to prison forever, it would be worth it, knowing that I saved the lives of other children.

I also became worried that John Kerry may be elected and because of his stand on the Right To Life issue, I also planned to kill him too, if he became elected. I studied these things, but I wasn't on my computer all day or anything, I don't think I was obsessed with it."

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Emotional Healing

One of the reasons I stopped watching shows like Dr. Phil is because they reduce problem solving to following the 2 or 3 easy steps that make up their latest "strategy." While I do not doubt the merit of their intentions, problems aren't always easily categorized. Life is often times complicated and messy. It is never "one size fits all." What may work to resolve issues for a majority of people may not work for me.

It is essential that I never stop believing in myself. No matter how heavy the weight I carry on my shoulders, how troubling the burden, I cannot focus on it without also recognizing that at that very moment I am carrying it! Probably the most important lesson in life I have ever learned is that I am a survivor. No matter how scarey or hopeless or overwhelming or troubling the life circumstances I face, there will eventually come a time when I can look back and say I overcame the obstacles.

Like broken bones, emotional brokeness can take a long, long time to mend. Sometimes there are setbacks. Once in a while a broken bone may even need to be reset in order to heal properly. Feelings are far more fragile than bones. There aren't "casts" or "slings" or "crutches" that I can put on my broken feelings or the scars on my spirit.

Probably more important in the healing process than listening to the most well-intended advice of others is to keep talking about my suffering. Emotional healing is kind of like a foul-smelling room. I have to clean things up and open the windows to get rid of the odor before the room will be clean and fresh again. Talking through my pain and suffering opens the windows and cleans my insides getting rid of the effects of the dark times in my life. When I get cut, I bleed. The bleeding is what cleans the wound and paves the way for the cut to heal. Crying is the way my feelings bleed. It's okay to cry until I can't cry any more.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Called

Prior to entering the seminary and throughout the course of my studies for the priesthood, my focus was that of discernment, of listening intently for God's voice and trying to determine to what that voice was calling me and where that voice was leading me. The lifestyle of a seminarian allowed me to filter out much of the noise and clutter that bring daily distractions preventing God's voice from being heard. I found that as long as I remained intimately connected to that voice life's journey was never void of meaning and purpose.

Discernment never stops. That voice continues to call me in ever new and often times unexpected ways. Gone are the days when I enjoyed a lifestyle that filtered out the distractions. Now I must listen intently for the voice amidst the day-to-day chaos that is life.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Values - Part 3

So we face the reality that people in partnerships or community experience problems because of a disparity of values. We acknowledge that we are dealing with the reality that to hold something as a value presupposes its non-negotiable status and that no value can be applied universally. This is the stuff that has and continues to fuel discord between peoples and nations. It appears we stand in the face of an unresolvable problem.

Certainly God could solve the dilemma with a single brush stroke by doing away with free will and imposing universal divine values as a condition for the gift of life. But that is not God's way of doing business with us. As beings who reflect God's image and likeness, he has given us the capability of either uniting together under a set of commonly held values or to self-destruct in their absence. We seem to be doing a better job of the latter.

I believe that a big part of the problem is that most people fail to reflect on what they value. Too much of life is spent neither aware of nor in harmony with our values. Instead we blindly follow after our urges and impulses, mistaking them for values.

There is a simple, grassroots solution. In homes all over the world families need to prayerfully reflect on and name the values that identify them. Conscious and conscientious effort on the part of all family members to find ways to live out their values should become an integral part of the daily routine. We need to transform our busy body character so that rather than doing much, we do what we do well. Once this framework is in place, then people entering into partnerships (relationships) and community will begin to recognize that the same values drive us all.

What values identify you and your family? How do the individual members of your family embody these values in their day-to-day activities?

Values - Part 2

While values may exist that arguably could be applied to various groups or communities of people (as is the case in some religions, governments, cults or gangs), none appear to be truly universal. Values are essentially determined by the individual based upon whatever perceptive criteria the person has decided, freely or otherwise, to embrace.

Aren't all differences between religions, governments or partners in relationships ultimately an expression of incongruous values? This fact emphasizes how essential the need is to blend or bridge values as a means of bringing peoples together and restoring hope.

How to go about that task poses a conundrum. Something does not become a value unless the willingness to compromise it is removed from the table. How, no, can this problem be solved?

Values

If your life unexpectedly ended this very moment, how would you feel about the life you left behind? Would you be able to look back without regret saying that you enjoyed a happy life, that you did the things that were important to you, that you had the opportunities you needed to love and be loved? Could you say you had the chance to fulfill some of your dreams, that your being here made a difference, that you are leaving behind something of you that will live on?

Prayerfully considering these questions brings us in touch with what we most value. Values may change as we progress through life. A young adult setting out to claim the rest of her life following school may value investments to build equity and lead to financial security. The thirysomething person caught in what is perceived as a deadend job may be willing to risk security to pursue changes that heighten the potential for career success or fulfillment while opportunities and options are still available to him. The fiftysomething or older person who recognizes that more days lie in her wake than lay before her, that realize that no material possession will be of use when life reaches its end, will instead treasure memories and value experiences.

Making the most of the present moment is not possible without knowing what it is we most value. Where are your values? Have they changed as your life has progressed? Can you think of an instance where knowing what you value helped you to make a wise life choice?

Crying - Part 4

So crying is the purest, most authentic human spiritual experience. Some people are more comfortable with crying than others are. Because crying represents the moment where the limits of human potential or capability are reached and the divine must take over, the ego's need to be in control will not permit such surrender for some. These people are driven by the illusory desire to be the masters of their own destiny. Conventional wisdom and spiritual maturity both teach how deceptive and fruitless such a view can be.

Although my focus has been on crying associated with brokenness or despair, they are not the exclusive domain of our cries. Another moment in the crying of the soul is gratitude. My beloved's acceptance of a marriage proposal, the birth of a child, the unconditional love that animates a family member's comforting hug, the hope and promise of a spectacular sunrise or the utter splendor of a breath taking sunset, the elation over unexpected good fortune - these can all become the occasion for the soul's giving voice to gratitude through our tears.

Can you think of a moment in your own life where your crying were tears of gratitude?

Crying - Part 3

How do we respond to the cries of others? If God hears our crying, do we hear the cries of each other? We may look at someone crying and think to ourselves they are being too self-absorbed. They are playing the victim.

"We cannot change what happens to us but we can change how we choose to perceive it or let it affect us," we say. But is this really a healthy approach or just a convenient way for the non-victim to turn a deaf ear to their cries, to not have to deal with the victim's pain or suffering? There are many who continue to cry long after being victimized for no other reason than they lacked a safe, loving and supportive place in which to cry.

Most would see it as absurd to forego any medical intervention for our serious physical ills. In order to heal physically, we must listen to and feel what our body is telling us and respond with appropriate treatment. Changing the way we face physical illness may help us cope, but alone will not heal. Yet we continue to approach emotional difficulties as if they are guided by a different set of principles.

We cannot get over anything when, out of guilt that we have played the victim card too long , we bury our hurt deep within us. It doesn't go away. If instead of having our cry and having our cries heard we have buried our pain or suffering, it will resurface in maladaptive ways. We need to cry and have our cries heard in order to experience their renewing, healing benefits.

Crying - con't

Boys aren't supposed to cry. So goes an unwritten rule that is enforced in many a household. President Ronald Reagan, the Gipper known for his John Wayne personna, began a slow cultural shift in the 1980s when he showed that it was okay for a grown man to cry in public.

When we exert ourselves physically, sweat is produced which cools the body's temperature down. Perhaps similarly when the soul cries, tears are produced which also possess a refreshing quality. In the throws of despair, a cry from the soul brings forth a deep, inward peace.

Though it may sound strange, there is more than one way to cry. I was blown away by a counselor's insight a few years back that in my frequent laughter she felt I was really crying. Her observation had a poignancy to it for at the time, despite any outward appearance, I was indeed quite inwardly broken by many things going on in my life. Perhaps that is why we can claim that God hears our cries for there is no way to mask them.

Crying

Out of the depths I cry unto you, O Lord.
O Lord, hear my prayer and let my cry come unto you.

Perhaps there is no purer spiritual experience than that of crying. While disciplines exist as paths to enlightenment and religions carve out paths to salvation, crying is the very voice of the human soul. It's presence is a surrender to the limits of human experience. God is God and we are not and cannot.

When confronted by circumstances that take us to the outermost stretches of human limitation where only God can claim control, our cry is an often desperate bow to faith. It is the only moment in our lives where we recognize and accept, however reluctantly, that we are not in control. Crying places us before God with hands outstretched and palms up to receive that which we are incapable of attaining on our own.

Comfort Zones

I think relationship difficulties (person-to-person or group-to-group) reflect differences in comfort zones. Admittedly I have a wide comfort zone and I have an instinctual tendency to resist being boxed in in any way. I look forward to waking up every day to a truly new day unlike any that has gone before it. I hunger for new discoveries, both within myself and the world about me. For me if life is reduced to repeating predictable patterns, then I don't feel like I have a life at all.

My wife has a very narrow comfort zone. Unfortunately for her the things that made up that narrow comfort zone don't even exist for her any more. Gone is the little boy that she single parented - he is now 27. Gone is the job that allowed her to provide well for her son and her while she was raising him - she is now disabled and medically retired from her job after 17 years working 3rd shift in a cereal factory. Gone is the person that was always in control and exercising from power - she is now a lost and empty shell battling a myriad of mental disorders (diagnosed bipolar, then borderline, then obsessive-compulsive and now major depression) on the crest of every psychotropic medication ever produced. She knows neither how to nor does she wish to survive outside her narrow comfort zone. Her anger makes its ugly way to the surface and bearing the brunt of it are my kids.

Perhaps it is because she has lost so much of her comfort zone that she lives such a narrow and rigid life. There are only a few places she will go out to eat at and when she does she will always order the same thing - a grilled chicken sandwich. She has never cooked - that role has always rested with me - but she is not interested in trying new things. Sometimes I think she is more finicky than my two kids.

The house we live in was her house. She wanted me to give up mine even though we would have found ourselves more financially secure. I can understand wanting to live in your home and can understand the urgency for her as she tries to cling to the only thing that is left from her narrow comfort zone - memories.

How do you or is it even possible to reconcile such radical differences in comfort zones?

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Spring Scatter

First. let me express heartfelt thanks and appreciation for the many heartfelt responses to my last post on deliverance. There is certainly a great bunch of folks here at xanga and I treasure being a small part of it. A quick scan of what you all had to offer made me realize I was in the presence of the holy and I felt the urge to remove the sandals from my feet for I found myself on holy ground. I will be revisiting all that was said for a long time to come for in your words I have found a well from which I can draw comfort and encouragement.

The kids are on spring break and, because my wife has unusual (to me) sensitivities about what is acceptible or appropriate with respect to her german shepherd Zack and lab Shadow, we are off this afternoon to spend a few days in a hotel... on the other side of town. The place has a heated indoor pool that, along with a bunch of board games, will give them an experience to cherish. I'm looking forward to the free wireless internet to test out my new laptop after everyone else has gone to sleep for the night...

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Deliverance

When times become difficult or unbearable, from despair springs forth hope that leads us to seek out deliverance from the circumstances creating our adversity or ills. Characteristic throughout Judeo-Christian history is an expectation that either someone will rise up or else God himself will intervene to right the wrongs, bring justice or restore peace. The danger in this cultural conditioning, however, is that when someone or something doesn't emerge to deliver us, we are left irreparably damaged or debilitated by the despair.

We haven't fully grasped an appreciation of the power of personal intention and responsibility. People aren't prone to think of budging from the ground on which we they so comfortably, yet at times desparately, are perched. Folks don't like to venture outside of the box to question methods and attitudes in order to make the changes necessary to deliver themselves.

I find myself in a toxic marriage from which I frequently cry out for deliverance. I carry this attitude that if I can just tough it out things have to turn around and get better... At least things can't seemingly get any worse. It is wrong, however, to stand by waiting for some kind of outside magic that will renew a relationship that burdens every member of the family. The accompanying despair is depression that keeps my wife in bed all day and wreaks havoc with my physical health. The situation takes an unknown toll on my kids in addition to the heightened anxiety in which they uninvitedly find themselves in. It's definitely time (admittedly long overdue) for me to respond from the perspective of personal intention and responsibility to bring about my own deliverance.

From what personal despair do you seek deliverance? Have you clung to the hope that someone or something would magically deliver you? What can you change to bring about your own deliverance?

Sunrise Immigration

Inasmuch as I wish I didn't have to get up so early for work and wish I didn't have such a long commute, I have to pause and give God kudos for the breath-taking sunrises I've been treated to this past week. I am in awe at how God can fill the canvas of the pre-dawn sky with such amazing light and color and how each display is both spectacular and unlike any that has taken place before it. You are truly God and I am thankful! With daylight savings time waiting in the wings this weekend, it'll be a while before I can again enjoy this miracle.

Occupying much of the news this past week is the debate over how to address illegal immigration. I think those who would like to see it become a felony are guilty of exaggerating statistics when they suggest that those crossing our borders are nothing but murderers, robbers, rapists and child molesters. Working in a prison in a state that is the destination of many of them, I can assure you there are plenty of red, white and blue-blooded citizens who are filling that bill. However our elected officials dance around the issue so as to be either politically correct or re-electable, I suggest we consider that we are all immigrants in a world that belongs to God. What the heck, I could also probably argue that there are more spouses than any of us might imagine who feel like an illegal immigrant in their own home! Sometimes I do.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

A Letter of Sympathy

I sent the following letter of sympathy to my ex mother-in-law. I share it here because it tells a bit more of my personal story...

March 29, 2006


Dear Joan,

Please accept my deepest sympathy for you, Helen, Rex and Richard with Claude's passing. I pray that with the passing of time you may all find comfort and peace over your loss.

Time goes by too quickly. In just 6 weeks, Helen and I would have been celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary. I never would have expected that circumstances would lead Helen to decide that I was not the man she wished to accompany her through life, to provide for her family and stand at her side to offer comfort and support at times such as these. Nevertheless, you and Claude were always accepting of me and understanding as well and for that I will forever be grateful. I hope in your heart you feel the same toward me.

When I think of Claude, two things come to mind. First were the great times Helen and I, Shane and a whistling baby named Kaitlyn had when we would get in the car and together hit the open road. I loved our many road trips and, even though gas prices make it harder, continue to enjoy traveling the countryside to this very day. It is what Claude chose to do for a living and, after his disability, we were able to continue to keep what he loved so much alive for him through our many, many car rides together. I have no doubt that these brought him much peace and happiness.

A second memory that I will always treasure is how you and Claude were both there for me after Shane was born. Even though I entered the picture just a month into Helen's pregnancy and, like any father would do, did all I could to bond with him throughout that pregnancy, being "just" a step parent rather than Shane's biological father was difficult for me. I found myself depressed and questioning my relationship to Shane. Through your love and caring I came to appreciate, as you both would frequently assure me, that "anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy."

You are an extraordinary woman, Joan. I think of how lucky a man Claude was to have had you, someone who so unselfishly cared for his basics needs long after he was no longer capable of offering you anything in return. You just don't see that kind of love, faithfulness and commitment much anymore. Please don't second guess yourself about placing him in the nursing home when his health needs became more than you were able to provide. You did everything you could and consistently went beyond the extra mile. Claude fully appreciated everything you did for him to make his life as fulfilling as possible.

As a truck driver, Claude loved the open road. I like the freedom of spirit you find in someone choosing to do this for a living. While his disability may have hampered that spirit and left him dependent upon others for too long a while, his death has once again set his spirit free to hit the open road.

God bless you all

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Fantacism vs Free Will

So recently we have learned it's potentially a capital offense for an Islamic man to convert to Christianity in Afghanistan. It's okay for an obnoxious group of renegade Baptists to invade the privacy of grieving families by protesting their country's perceived stance on homosexuality at our slain servicemen's funerals. It is okay in our country to cast a ballot at the polls irregardless of a candidate's stand on all other issues of major public policy in order to promulgate the particular tenets of one's religious faith with respect to values that belong between a person and his or her God. In waging jihad it is okay to resort to savagery and target the innocent to issue wake up calls or coerce a people to embrace their views or accept their agendas.

Sorry, but I don't buy any of it. None of it is okay in my book and, I dare say, in God's book either. God's invitation to love and be loved has always come wrapped in free will. This doesn't leave room for religious fanatics of any faith to, presuming the world incapable of exercising that free will, appoint its own governance to establish the rules and its own army to enforce strict adherence to them.

Cheat Codes

Not long after my son gets home from a trip to Blockbuster he's asking good old Dad if he can go online to get "cheat codes" for the newest game he's rented. Now if you've never checked it out before, there are cheat codes out there for every game and every platform. Have you ever wondered like I do what this is subtly and subconsciously teaching people, especially our kids, who have turned to gaming with a compulsion that borders on addiction?

The value used to be on developing fundamentals and skills through good old-fashioned practice, practice, practice! Unless you were born to excel in your chosen endeavor, experience would lead to some degree of earned proficiency. Technology, however, is changing the landscape as literally we become more and more a "now" generation that doesn't have to
wait or work for anything.

Are we slowly reducing life to a game where we can seek "cheats" that allow us to circumvent or bail us out of the hardships and difficulties that come our way? Are we setting future generations up to fail because they haven't learned how to face the adversities that are inevitable in life without the use of a "cheat?" With this emerging "cheat your way to success" mentality do we run the risk of cheapening the role or value of religion and spirituality by seeing it as yet another way to "cheat" on life?

Identity After Divorce

My kids' grandfather passed away Saturday morning. This is the first time Shane (15) and Kaitlyn (13) have experienced the death of someone close to them. My weekend was spent comforting and attending to their feelings.

I have probably not found myself in a more awkward situation. The deceased was my ex's father. I never had any problems with my in-laws and, together with my ex, much time was spent together on weekends traveling. A disabled truck driver, my former mother-in-law cared for her husband for as long as I can remember over 15 years ago. I often considered how lucky a man he was to have a wife who would stand by him and provide for his basic needs when he could no longer give anything back in return.

When I took my kids over to see their mom and grandmother, I walked them to the house and stepped in the doorway to offer my condolences. How awkward it felt seeing people that had once been a part of my life but were no longer because my ex chose not to have me as the person she wished at her side when facing moments such as these. Divorce doesn't take away that part of me given away to my ex and her family over the years. But who was I Saturday, really? I don't know.

I'm sure my kids found comfort in the bitter brokenness of divorce being set aside if but for too brief a moment while I gave their mom and Grandmother a hug.

Grandmas and Favorites

Tomorrow is Gramma J's 93rd birthday! To celebrate the family gathered at Red Lobster for dinner tonight.

Gramma J is my wife's maternal grandmother. Effie, as the family calls her, took my wife in when she found herself 18, pregnant and separated from her first husband who remained behind in California. Chris grew close to her grandmother and Effie developed a special relationship over the years with her new great grandson Jason.

While few would be comfortable admitting to favorites, Jason is clearly Effie's. In fact he is most likely the reason we are celebrating a 93rd birthday in the first place. Bouncing back from congestive heart failure that nearly took her a couple of years ago, Gramma J fought to be around to see Jason get married. This past year she rode her anticipation of the birth of her first great great grandchild when Jason's wife gave birth to Destiny Michelle. It was no accident we ate at Red Lobster - It has always been Jason's favorite restaurant.

Now I've known other grandmothers who have had a favorite grandchild or great grandchild. Upon her passing my ex's paternal grandmother left her home to her favorite great grandchild Kevin. I always appreciated that both of my own grandmothers held me as special, although I don't recall either showing partiality. It is not my intent to blast favoritism here. Jason and Kevin both gave much more time, attention and love to their great grandmothers than anyone else in their families and both Grandmas merely expressed their deep appreciation.

Are you anyone's favorite? Is their anyone in your family who is your own favorite? Do you feel it is wrong to show favoritism?

Peace and blessings to you all. Have a great weekend!

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Leadership & Other Things...

After sitting through 8 hours of leadership training today, I've been mulling over a few thoughts.

(1) We broke up into small groups to brainstorm and discuss who we thought was the world's greatest leader. An interesting exercise. Bearing in mind corrections is a paramilitary environment, it came as no surprise when the likes of Collen Powell and Gen. H. Norman Schwarzkopf surfaced. Others named included the likes of Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Alexander the Great, Gandhi, Lyndon Baines Johnson, Princess Diana and the Pope. But our state trainer wasn't prepared to hear us ultimately give the distinction of greatest leader to Jesus.

(2) I observed how tragic it was that contemporary or current leaders were absent among the names that surfaced. Is there no one out there that instills hope and inspires us to greatness?

(3) Our trainer kept equating supervision and management with leadership. I suggested that this was wrong. The mere fact that someone holds a position of supervision does not make him or her a leader. I believe that a leader is "begotten, not made." I believe that in the workforce and in any group there are persons who will be recognized by the group as natural leaders, as the ones with vision who inspire and move the group.

(4) My definition of a leader? Someone who is a team builder, who recognizes the gifts and talents of individuals and empowers them to share these gifts, who is proactive rather than reactive.

(5) During another group exercise we were asked to list examples of leadership styles that don't work. Among this list was the practice of promoting the wrong people. When a participant asked why this happened, the trainer went around the group and asked if our spouse was like us or our opposite. What struck me was that out of 60 participants, 55 declared there spouse to be their opposite! The trainer suggested that we shouldn't therefore expect any better from our employer. I observed that we don't choose who we want for our supervisor like we choose our spouse.

(6) I was bothered by the 55 out of 60 statistic. What could that mean? Then I figured it out (I think). We don't choose our opposite to be our spouse. We choose someone who feels like our soulmate, our complement. After the ceremony and honeymoon is over we settle into the nitty gritty of married life and we begin to recognize the flaws in our spouse that romance left us blind to. These "new" (are they, really?) discoveries lead us to question our choice or what we got ourselves into. When we say our spouse is our opposite, aren't we merely saying that my spouse isn't the person I thought I was marrying? This stage I believe is where so many marriages fall apart. First sight of the flaws and we want to bail out.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

American Idol Spirituality

Singer, songwriter, arranger Barry Manilow gave advice to American Idol's final 11 prior to last night's competition in which they chose and performed a song from the fifties. It struck me how that advice is also pretty decent spiritual direction for all of us:

(1) Know who you are, what you do best and don't compromise it. We get ourselves into all kinds of trouble when we envy or mimic someone we would rather be or whose talents or opportunities we prefer. The only thing I am capable of excelling in is being myself. The world would much prefer and benefit most from me being me wholeheartedly rather than pretending to be someone else.

(2) You're not just a singer, you're a story teller. Interestingly you can tell the difference between the performer who is singing a song very well, hitting all the right notes in perfect pitch and the performer whose singing is coming from the heart filled with feeling and passion. I would much rather listen to the latter. Likewise everything I do in life can either be meaningless words (even when well chosen) and lifeless actions (even when appearing noble or purposeful) or each can tell my story to the world.

3. Song selection is critical. You must choose the right song that showcases your talent. If you are an investor, you're going to direct your resources where you are most likely to see a healthy return. It is likewise important to recognize that I am not a cornucopia or bottomless well and my success and fulfillment in life dictate that I invest myself in efforts that will impact on drawing nearer to my destination.

Silence

In an appearance last Sunday on CBS "Face the Nation," Vice President Dick Cheney dismissed suggestions that the Bush White House was in need of a shake-up. "I don't think we can pay any attention to that kind of thing," Cheney said. "The president has got a job to do. ... He ignores the background noise that's out there in the polls that are taken on a daily basis."

I'll leave the discussion about politics, responsibility to the thoughts of the electorate and the question of accountability for the government's less than stellar performance to other bloggers who do it far better than I. What caught my attention instead in Cheney's remarks was the comment about ignoring "the background noise."

Everywhere I turn I am bombarded with noise. After accepting the 5:10 am alarm's disruption of the last remnants of a restful sleep, I surrender again to the call to turn over another 12 hours of life to the job that provides a roof over my head and food on the table. The morning commute is a wrestling match whereupon the latest audiobook mystery, whats going on in the world and precious silence vie for supremacy. Once at work, I really cherish the quiet stillness of that first hour in my office before the prisoners begin to assemble for their interview and classification.

I have a colleague who inevitably perches herself in my office each morning and revs her mouth to rob me of my silence. With a voice sounding like the cross between a manic Mickey Mouse and the fast talking guy on the old Fed Ex commercial, she eats up the entire hour in noisy chatter barely giving herself time to breathe or leaving me the opportunity to voice anything more than a couple of words here and there. I must carefully weigh the desire to offer my word or two knowing that to do so is likely to send her on another verbal expedition. If you recall the old Gilda Radner character Rosanne Rosanadana on Saturday Night Live then you know my colleague Deb and her daily assault on my quiet time.

Silence is so absolutely amazing. It is like the finest symphony. Attentively listen to the silence and you hear instrumentation, movements and voices that are not noise at all and together form the most beautiful composition possible - life itself! Oh if we would only consider for a moment everytime we would open our mouths if what we are about to say really adds to the beauty that is silence.

Goals and Wishes

Like an unfinished book that is still being written, there remain things I still want to accomplish both in and with my life. Of course as I grow older, I have to temper the idealism and passion of my youth with the realization that there aren't going to be as many open doors awaiting a soon-to-be 55 year old man as there are the current student immersed in his or her undergraduate studies. Although levels of opportunity differ, what unites all of us is the motivation to make our mark, to make a difference, to leave the world a better place for our having been here.

To reach beyond my current experience in an attempt to fulfill yet unrealized aspirations is to have goals. A goal is a vision for which I am capable of making choices that can bring its realization about.

Some people, however, hold aspirations or dream dreams but do not enjoy the capability of fulfilling them. These people may face limitations imposed by disability or illness that is either life threatening or life shortening. These are the stories that wrench the heart. For them, goals are wishes. They still want to make their mark or make a difference, but they depend on the love and passion of others to help them realize their dreams. These are the people that shows like Extreme Makeover Home Edition seek out to help. This is reality television at its finest.

While other television shows like Deal or No Deal remind us that we can be greedy, people whose goals can only be wishes requiring the help of others are uncomfortable asking for that assistance. So today I thought I would pose a question that focusses our attention beyond our own wants and desires:

"Who do you know of that you would nominate to benefit from the help of a show like Extreme Makeover Home Edition? What are their particular circumstances and needs?" Who knows, maybe there is somebody out there who reads this lowly blog with the resources to fulfill someone's wishes.

Unbelievably Strange

About a month ago one of the top ten emailed stories according to Yahoo was that of a man who sodomized Thelma in January of 2005. Apparently he had become a nuisance to the owner of a township farm. Fearing the man to be a stalker, she had to chase him off of her property when a herd of sheep alarmed her to the presence of the intruder. To the man's surprise, this woman also happened to be an off-duty police officer.

When a responding police officer surprised him as he stepped out from behind some trees behind the property, the man explained that he had gone into the woods to take a dump. The officer confronted him about his story, asking if he would find excrement if he were to take a K-9 back into the woods with his flashlight. The man, by now obviously growing uneasy, explained instead that he had stopped to pet the woman's sheep.

As the officer conducted his investigation, he noted that one of the sheep appeared particularly distressed. Unable to detect the presence of bodily fluids on the ground, a swab was taken of the animal's anal cavity and forensic testing later confirmed the presence of human sperm cells.

This man was sentenced to prison and ordered to register as a sex offender. Today he showed up for classification. He broke down in a colleague's office as, during the course of her interview, she reminded him that the blood of Jesus had taken care of his sin. The man tried to explain that he had been prescribed prozac and had no recollection of anything that took place on that cold evening in January of last year. He related how he had become so depressed over his situation that he overdosed on his prescribed medication.

Since his arrival at the reception center for processing, he has had to endure the sophomoric taunts of everyone around him mimicking the baaaaah's of sheep and a host of ewe-referenced jokes. Visit this online discussion to the story on the web and you'll begin to appreciate the carnival-like atmosphere surrounding this offender's presence in prison. Having served the maximum prison term on four prior incarcerations, I hunch he's going to find himself behind bars haunted by this nightmare not for the 2 1/2 year minimum, but for the 20 year maximum of his sentence.

In my view, the behavior of people (including corrections professionals) in reaction to this man's presence is reminiscent of a couple of prepubescent boys thumbing through the pages of a dictionary to find and laugh at dirty words. Sigh. We humans are a strange sort indeed.

Love Versus "The" Love

Mike Szydlo (homer 3132) poses a couple of heartfelt questions in his blog yesterday. We seek a love the spirit of which is captured so beautifully and hopefully in verse, song and prose. I find it puzzling that something so remarkably clear and desirous to most could be so difficult, even impossible, to attain. It makes no sense to me why love relationships, something that is supposedly so wonderful and to which most aspire, would be so hard and such demanding work, often times to the brink of and beyond the spirit's breaking point.

Is it even possible to find a partner, a soulmate, who would truly love us for who and what we are and be loved by us for the same? What happens when we let our need for love or the fear of loneliness lead us to settle for anything less? There are a lot of people out there in relationships who still feel unloved or find themselves lonely most of the time. Why do we hold out hope to find something that so readily eludes us? Other than to promote a socially acceptable context by which humanity procreates to perpetuate itself, is there any other viable reason to institutionalize any relationship? Does marriage in practice exist to license or sanction exclusive sex rights with so many, including those who would assert personal moral virtue or righteousness, breaking that sacred trust by infidelity? You certainly don't have to marry someone to enjoy their friendship or company.

In the end I think the difficulty rests in our equating "love" with the one true love in life that our instinct leads us to seek. As a celibate Roman Catholic priest, my life was filled with love. There has been no other time in my life when I was happier, when I felt better about who I was or what I was doing. My life was surrounded by people in meaningful ways from the time I woke up until the time I retired for the night. Yet instead of treasure all that I had to be thankful for, I listened to the loneliness that would gnaw at me an hour or two each night before bed. I had a life of "love," but instead gave it up in a futile search to find "the" love. Only now looking back do I realize that I had what I was looking for all along.

And so to my friend Mike and anyone else who would struggle with the questions he poses in his blog, I say focus your life not on the quest for "the" love but instead build your life around "love" and you will find what you are looking for.

Fear No Factors

Each week Joe Rogan pushes contestants to reach beyond their physical limits and challenges them to either consume or commune with the most disgusting of things to determine for whom fear is a factor.

As our lives unfold, many factors contribute to who or what we eventually become or what becomes of us. Some are the consequences of the choices we make ranging from the most careful, informed and conscientious to the most flippant, haphazard or impulsive. But there are other factors over which we exercise little or no control, among them the temperament of our given social and cultural structures, the conditions of our surroundings and the makeup of our environment, limitations in resources, the unpredictability of nature and genetic predispositions. There's also an intangible factor that determines why a set of like circumstances will prove devastating to one and an insignificant inconvenience to another with the randomness shown by a midwestern twister.

The truth is life does not unfold on a level playing field. So what, then, are we facing: divine predetermination or design of which faith demands our acceptance or a divine call to abide by a social contract whereby we look out for one another and equitably provide for all based on need rather than want?

Naturally Unnatural

When I'm born, I enter the world naked, no possessions and utterly dependent on others to care for and feed me. As a priest and pastor, it has amazed me how often the same lot accompanies one's passing from this life. A broken, failing body unable to sustain its own life, often dependent on family or nursing care, no longer able to eat or even drink faces an end where no earthly possession will matter for it must all be left behind.

Doesn't it seem strange then that we bring such an urgency to every breath we take in between that it defy this natural pattern of poverty and dependence? In setting out on such a journey is our life not spent like fish continuously swimming against the stream? With lives characterized by such innate discord and disharmony with the natural order, is it any wonder we so frequently find ourselves broken or troubled?

Creation Distractions

In the beginning...

Thus begins the Old Testament. There were no eyewitnesses to creation, no author who committed the event to writing as a reporter would write his story for the evening news. What we have in the opening lines of Genesis is the spiritual reflection of a believing people whose lives were wrapped in an intimate relationship with a God who called this people his own. They sought to understand both their history and their experience in light of that relationship.

The remarkable thing about a spiritual reflection on the beginnings isn't that a created realm unfolded. It is that there was a beginning void of anything that would distract from the Creator himself. Today our hunger to find, know and understand God reflects on discovering how God's hands have intimately touched everything both in and about us. We see God stooping over the earth and with his hands continuously fashioning a world and moving us about on it as a young child might build roads in the dirt on which he propels his diecast cars on imagined journeys.

But God isn't the created world or the drama that plays out upon it each day. These in fact have become distractions that prevent us from drawing intimately into the presence of God, from resting and renewing ourselves in the very presence of the holy. The search for God must take us away from the things of life, the stuff of our existence, and direct us instead back to the beginning into the void and emptiness where God is God.

Copyright 2006 Don Neale, Jr.
All rights reserved.

After Thoughts

After a very busy past couple of days, tonight I welcome the quiet. I am sure my own experience is quite different from that of my deceased sister-in-law's husband and their 14 year old son. It is hard to witness such personal grief and not, at least for a passing moment, picture youself touched by the same misfortune; me lying in that casket, or my wife, or my child.
If death itself were not enough, it is tragic to see the in-fighting among family members trying to advance theirselves as the definitive voice of the deceased's wishes. Perhaps my sister-in-law anticipated the difficulties when she chose prior to her death to prearrange her own funeral. I spoke with the owner of the funeral home. He indicated that many recognize and talk about the importance of prearrangement following the death of a loved one, but 90% will never follow through.

My mother-in-law, already burdened beyond measure by the death of her daughter (Afterall, age doesn't really matter, does it? It seems nature is disordered in some way when a parent must bury a child.), was further anguished by her belief that Teresa experienced, as she put it, "a horrible death." I tried with the last post to reframe what she saw in the hope she could remember what took place with a degree of peace from a more comforting perspective.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

The Moment of Death

My time to be here nears its end. I have faced trials, hardship and disease and have fought a good, hard fight and given my all. I have endured pain and suffering beyond imagination. But no matter how brave, how noble, how determined, in the end it is not up to me to determine how long will be this season called life.

I know the end is near. I'm scared. My departure is like walking down a darkened street alone. I am saddened. I have no choice but to let go of loved ones, friends, interests, hobbies, treasured moments, my as yet unfulfilled dreams. I am hopeful that when I breathe my last the lights don't go out for good, that something of me remains and continues, that my life and my time here has made a difference, that things are not what they would have been had I never been here. I can only hope that what awaits me is even more beautiful, more satisfying, more fulfilling, more free.

Why must death be so final and total? Is it because I cannot enter into what lies ahead with any ties to where I came from? Or is it because this life, this season must relinquish its hold on me so that who and what I am can truly be free and set out to discover its ever deeper destiny?

My eyes are open and I can see what is going on around me, loved ones touching me, holding me and speaking their love to me. I see their tears. Although my imminent death's finality makes it a sad occasion, they have gathered to send me off. Even though they do not want to let go they are wishing me well. They are giving to me that part of them that I touched to take with me on my journey.

But my vision grows dim and what I see before me blurs, beyond that I begin to see images I had not noticed before. I cannot see it clearly, but it is more beautiful than the most spectacular sunrise or sunset I have ever seen. Beyond the desperation and frustration and turmoil of those immediately about me there is a stillness, a softness, a calm that I find myself drawn toward. I hear a song that I have heard before, not on any radio but the faint whisper of a tune that has played before from within. It is such a beautiful song, so soothing. It lifts something deep within me and frees me from the grips of my pain and suffering.

My breathing has become more difficult, more desperate, more labored and those about me are concerned, but it causes me no discomfort and I'm not afraid of suffocating. As my breaths diminsh, the vision beyond draws nearer and I find more and more of me lifted into its soft presence. Unexplainedly I have begun to leave my body and am being welcomed into a new home in the warm, comforting and inviting light. My body can no longer swallow, or is it perhaps because I no longer am conscious of the need to swallow or any other need for that matter? My breaths, now fewer and farther between, pass through fluids that build up in my throat creating an eerie rattle that alarms those around me. As if in desperation they draw closer to me, frustrated that there is nothing they can do now to save me. I wish I could assure them that I am not hurting like I used to, I am not in discomfort. Although I cannot quite focus on what my eyes see opening up before me just beyond those who still attend to my broken, failing body, it undeniably draws me closer. Where in the past I usually feared the unknown, I find nothing at all alarming about what I see. If this is death, it does not approach as one watches a storm draw near in the midst of an ominous sky.

Rare in life was the depth of comfort and peace that now embraces me. In a lifetime of falling asleep, I was used to closing my eyes and entering into a world of darkness. But now I find myself falling asleep not in darkness, but in the most beautiful and serene light I could ever imagine. The peace I now feel within me allows me to be restful in a way my pain and suffering would never allow. I am growing sleepy now, but I no longer fear not waking up. Something inside me knows and accepts that when I do I will not open my eyes to see my loved ones, my home or my life again, not in the same way.

As I grow more and more sleepy and find myself nodding into sleep, I feel myself lifted fully into the light now. Below me a nurse listens intently to my chest shaking her head no when she no longer detects a heartbeat or breathing. She steps aside and tells my family they only have 2 or 3 more minutes. One by one my family approachs my lifeless body to plant one last kiss, to share one last word.

Thank you for your love and your words, my beloved ones! I too love you, but I am no longer inside the body you cling to. I am up here watching over you. It is going to be okay. I feel free now. I am still here but am not bound by the limits of that broken, lifeless body you mourn. My spirit soars as if with wings and I am eager and excited to see what awaits me. But for now I must rest, entering one last sleep. I am not afraid. I am alive!

Copyright 2006 Don Neale, Jr.
All rights reserved.

GOD Speaks

"I know how hard it is in these times to have faith, but maybe if you could have the faith to start with, maybe the times would change. You could change them. Think about it. Try. And try not to hurt each other. There's been enough of that, and it really gets in the way. No matter how hopeless, helpless, mixed up and scary it all gets, it can work. If you find it hard to believe in me, maybe it would help you to know I believe in you."
- George Burns as GOD on the stand in defense of Jerry Landers

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Jury Duty

Heeding the taped telephone instructions given a day earlier for Jury Panel "D" as in Donald to report to the Jury Assembly Room at 8:15 am, I first treasured the extra hour and a half of sleep that exercising my civic duty afforded me. Always fearful of having to park a mile away or finding myself without a chair to sit in, I planned to arrive 45 minutes early, a strategy that enabled me to secure a prime parking space I had no intention of relinquishing should my day extend beyond lunch. By 5 minutes to 8:00, I passed through the metal detectors having grown well acquainted with their idiosyncracies in over ten years of working in a state prison. I passed by a woman who expressed surprise that her cell phone was not permitted in the courtroom and boarded the elevator bound for the 4th floor where I joined a growing legion of prospective jurors holding up the walls because the Assembly Room doors had not been unlocked.

As I looked over those gathered by random selection from drivers licenses and state picture IDs, I expected to see a snapshot of the community in which I reside. To my surprise men outnumbered women 2-to-1 and minorities were disproprtionately few in number (5 or 6 out of a pool of 80-90), an observation that stood out given that better than half of the offenders I classify in prison are other than white. I would think about this often as I listened to the presiding Circuit Court Judge espouse the value of fair and impartial and a jury of one's peers during the jury selection process that came later that morning.

Five minutes late, the doors to the Assembly Room finally opened from within reminiscent of the doors opening to the castle of the Wizard of Oz in the Emerald City. Emerging to greet us was Juror Coordinator and Deputy Court Clerk Betty, a short dignified woman who appeared to be in her late 40's or early 50's. After splitting us into two groups by panel letter, we were instructed to file past a desk and announce to her our name and round trip mileage. Once all had checked in and were seated, Clerk Betty invited us to partake of the coffee and water in the back of the room which she jokingly observed was "on us," the tax payer. Orientation consisted of a 20 minute video presentation hosted by ABC News legal correspondent Tim O'Brien on the role of the juror in our justice system. Following the video was an additional 5 minute clip of Clerk Betty reading to us the nuts and bolts of jury service afterwhich she previewed for us what was to follow by asking if anyone would have difficulty serving as a juror on a trial that could last over a week. Armed with renewed appreciation for the value of my service, we were marched into the courtroom where jury selection began for a day care provider charged with manslaughter in the death of a 12 week old infant while under her care.

Clerk Betty also made the point during her presentation of the savings of tax dollars whenever the mere thought of jurors assembled and waiting in the wings could itself bring parties together to reach agreement without a trial. On the surface such a claim sounds both reasonable and appealing but I am often struck working in a prison how many are committed to Corrections to serve a sentence who are non-assaultive and pose minimal risk to the community. Might more tax dollars be saved if, instead of pressuring offenders to accept pleas that may look good on the resume of a prosecutor seeking re-election, we keep such offenders in the community and on their jobs paying taxes instead of incurring the $27,000 a year it costs to house them in prison?

Because my county uses a unified jury system, one pool is available should there be a need in probate, family, district or circuit court. Following a long selection process that extended into the afternoon, I was not seated among the 14 jurors selected for the present trial. Excused for the day, I must now wait until after 5pm to place a call to see if I'll get that extra sleep and be back in the morning or if I'll be headed for another day of work.

© Copyright 2006 gentlefootprint. All Rights Reserved.

Dying & the End of Life

My sister-in-law came home this afternoon. Bethesda Regional Cancer Treatment Center in Illinois told her there was nothing more they could do for her. They recommended the family contact Hospice. Having held her own against stage four cancer for over 18 months, her vital organs have begun to shut down and, perhaps most telling, she is no longer able to eat or drink. She quit sucking on ice chips a couple of days ago. As bleak as the situation may seem, she has still not given up the fight. She refuses to bring hospice into the picture because in her mind to do so represents giving up. Knowing her resolve, I have no doubt she will fight to live even with her last breath.

I've reflected here before that I see our existence as divine and eternal, without beginning or end, and that this life as we know it is but a single season of our being. I do not fear death and, if a diagnosis afforded me advance knowledge of my imminent end, I would perch myself in a chair overlooking one of the Great Lakes or an ocean beach or the Gulf. There I would cherish every last breath beholding as many sunrises and sunsets as I can against the backdrop of the awesome vastness and beauty of creation. Perhaps my affinity toward the water is a soulful attempt to exit life by returning to the waters of the womb from which I came into the world. This is more appealing to me, more spiritual, more meaningful than carrying either the weight of a fight to the end or departing emotionally numbed by medication to ease the pain and suffering.

I personally do not picture the next season, the afterlife, heaven or whatever you wish to call it as sitting on a cloud in a white robe with harp in hand singing alleluia. My gut hunch is that the kind of images of a heaven that people espouse or embrace have more to do with illusion and the ego's resolve to hold on to any semblence of life as we have known it. But of a continuance of being, I have no doubt.

I'm curious what folks here think or feel about the end of life. What about our spirit or soul or the essence of our being, whatever name you wish to give it? Would a valiant fight to remain alive to the end release a burdened spirit or soul or would the spirit or soul be rewarded by some elevated existence in the season that is to follow this life? Would there be any benefit to going out as I have described, filled with an appreciation of all that this life has given yet departing not in a fight but in peace?

Copyright 2006 Don Neale, Jr.
All rights reserved.